


Bad habits

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: - Can you stop doing that!The scream of the older man made Mycroft wince.- Do what?- With your tongue! It's like you don't know what to do with she, and it drives me crazy!
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51
Collections: Mystrade is our Division





	Bad habits

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to Doyle, Moffat and Gatiss.  
> Written for the challenge of the Facebook group Mystrade is our division: a fic with the word Tongue.  
> English is not my first language, this was done with the help of a translator, I regret any mistake. Thank you for reading.

If there was one thing that everyone who knew Gregory Lestrade admired about the detective inspector was that he rarely lost his nerves.  
Yes, he yelled and cursed from time to time, but in general he was a man who didn't let himself be carried away by outbursts. The fact that Sherlock Holmes was still alive demonstrated his high level of tolerance.  
He did not get too upset with the nonsense of his superiors, nor with the arrogant behavior of some of his agents, nor did he even make a big fuss when he learned of his ex-wife's infidelity. The only one who seemed to test his calm and relaxed character was, curiously, the most calm and relaxed of the Holmes brothers.  
It was not that he disliked the man, far from it. It was just that the British Government had certain habits that made it difficult for him to maintain concentration, or self-control, when he was around. And no matter how luxurious and spacious the government cars were, they weren't spacious enough to keep his nerves from going off.  
Habits like smelling wonderfully, or having a dry, funny sense of humour, or endless legs, or long, elegant fingers, or...  
Greg sighed audibly for the umpteenth time, making Mycroft, this time yes, lift his eyes from the papers they had been reviewing together since he picked him up on his way out of the Yard.  
\- Is there a problem? - he asked calmly, raising his eyebrows.  
\- No. No problem. None at all - replied the detective, directing his attention to the window - Go on.  
After a brief hesitation, the eldest of the Holmes immersed himself again in the reading of the documents, reading at great speed, while the detective tried to look anywhere except the redhead, and failed miserably. He tried to concentrate on his breathing, as Sally had explained to him in their yoga classes, and he was beginning to feel more relaxed when Mycroft's wet, pink tongue poked out again, gently trapped between his lips in an unconscious gesture. The detective inspector exploded.  
\- Can you stop doing that!  
The scream of the older man made Mycroft wince.  
\- Do what?  
\- With your tongue! It's like you don't know what to do with she, and it drives me crazy!  
Mycroft looked at him, between funny and confused.  
\- Does my tongue drive you crazy?  
\- Yes, when it's not your hands moving non-stop, it's your tongue and...  
Greg missed the moment when Mycroft's driver stopped the vehicle and lowered the separation window, no doubt alerted by his screams, and the speed at which he raised it again. He also forgot the count of the respirations he was carrying, or why he had been counting them in the first place. He didn't even think of the official and ultra-secret documents that were then scattered on the floor of the car. He was too focused on the sensation of Mycroft's tongue invading his mouth, caressing every nook and cranny of it, as his hands caressed his hair. He unconsciously hugged Mycroft by the waist, to attract him as close as possible. When the need for oxygen caused them to separate, he rested her forehead on that of Mycroft, unable to avoid smiling. After a couple of minutes, Mycroft's voice brought him back to reality.  
\- Better? - The official sounded presumptuous, and Greg couldn't suppress a brief nervous laugh.  
\- Yes. Much better.  
Mycroft parted a little, looking at him with a cheeky, hungry smile.  
\- As you can see, I know exactly what to do with my tongue. - He closed the distance between them again to give her a soft kiss - In fact, I would love to show you how many more things I can do with her. Show it to you in... depth - This time it was Greg who pounced on the red and slightly swollen lips of the official, unable to think at that moment where they were or why they had needed to separate before, it was clear that breathing was overrated after all.... Mycroft separated them again, laughing softly at the detective's moaning protest - If you have no other plans, of course...  
Greg snorted, annoyed, as he lured the politician back in, thinking he should include "separate his mouth from mine" on the redhead's list of bad habits.


End file.
